A Beautiful Lie
by TheGmork
Summary: Harry Potter makes a promise to a dying man amidst the chaos of war and is given the most difficult task yet:raising a child.When little Dorcas Finnegan strikes a bargain with magic&death themselves,will they have the strength to walk their chosen path? HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Beautiful Lie

Rating: T

Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is AU fic.

Categories: General

Sub Cat: Romance

Summary: Amidst the chaos of war Harry makes a promise to a dying man, and receives the most difficult job yet: raising a child. This is the story of how Harry and little Dorcas Finnegan, with the aid of divine powers, fight the combined evils of Voldemort and Suetekh. Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is an AU fic.

Ships: HP/GW, eventual HP/SB, LE/JP, DM/RL, AL/FL

A/N: Hey guys, Fist few chapters will be slightly OOC. Also, am in desperate need of BETA, so if any1's interested plz email me!

* * *

_Preface

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_

_The battle field was littered with bodies of the fallen, both comrades and enemies. They seemed like numerous ugly black dots marring the otherwise perfectly beautiful white of winter. It was not a battle they had won with ease, mused Harry J. Potter as he limped his way back up to the castle._

_In a certain sense Hogwarts had died with Albus Dumbledore, as horribly and as surely as when Snape delivered the killing blow. No longer was it full of joyous laughter from its students, no longer did the young and innocent fill the halls of the once lively castle, no longer did joy dwell in Hogwarts. _

_All that dwelt there now were worn war refugees, children with ancient eyes that spoke of someone who had seen too much of death and of sorrow. How long had it been since Dumbledore's passing? Ron's? Hermione's? Fred? Percy? Arthur Weasley? Emmeline Vance? Remus Lupin? …Sirius? _

_Harry could feel the bile rising in his throat as more names crept into his mind, eyes fogging up with unshed tears. He fell fast onto his knees, mind swirling with images, memories, and face;, so many faces; he felt so utterly weak and tiered, but Merlin, so many faces stared back at him. Softly whispering, sobbing, they pleaded with him to save them, save the living; he had to be strong, where there was still life there was hope; the faces, so many faces…_

_

* * *

_

A corridor left to the hospital wing is where Ginny Weasley found him, out cold and bleeding profusely from a wound on his side, murmuring feverishly about voices, strength and faces…

* * *

End of Prologue…

a/n: what did you think of it? Hate it? Love it? Indifferent to it? Just push that little button and tell me what you think? Plz? Pleeeeaaaseeee? )


	2. Chapter 1:A favor asked, a promise kept

Title: The Beautiful Lie

Rating: T

Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is an AU fic.

Categories: General

Sub Cat: Romance

Summary: Amidst the chaos of war Harry makes a promise to a dying man, and receives the most difficult job yet: raising a child. This is the story of how Harry and little Dorcas Finnegan, with the aid of divine powers, fight the combined evils of Voldemort and Suetekh. Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is an AU fic.

_Ships: HP/GW, eventual HP/SB, LE/JP, DM/RL, AL/FL_

A/N: AGAIN: Fist few chapters will be slightly OOC. AND, am STILL in desperate need of BETA, so if any1's interested _plz _email me!

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**-- Chapter One: A Favor asked, a promise kept --**

* * *

_The first thing he noticed upon opening his eyes were the crisp white sheets of the hospital wing, somewhat fuzzed and disfigured by the absence of his glasses; the second was bright red hair. His heart leapt, and he knew that his Ginny was safe._

_Delicately pale fingers grazed his face and he found that he could see completely again. Ginny's tear streaked face hovered above his before he caught her pink lips in a chaste kiss. Hearts heavy with grief they embraced, sobbing silently for a few minutes until Ginny looked up, blinking back tears._

"_It's Seamus, Harry, he's been asking after you for a while now…he-he's dying…" she whispered, closing her eyes once more and wrapping her thin arms around his neck. So they lay there in each others arms, basking in the mutual comfort they brought each other. It was a rare moment to find, in these dark times…_

_Voldemort's forces overwhelmed the order, the ministry had been taken; those who opposed were slaughtered mercilessly, or thrown into prison until they could be dealt with accordingly, and so the wizarding world as a whole, not only in England but internationally, was swallowed by chaos. _

_Shaking such somber thoughts away Harry made his way to Seamus Finnegan's bed with a slight wobble. All traces of Seamus's trademark impish grin were gone, now replaced with a small watery smile and the sad look of a man who knew he was nearing his end. His hair was long and reached past his shoulders messily; his eyes unfocused and slightly feverish; it was quite clear to Harry and the sobbing child holding Seamus's hand that he was hanging on by a thread._

"_Harry is that you?" he rasped out, straining his neck to look at him. Harry took Seamus' free hand and sat down on the bed, "Yes, it's me," he replied in a hoarse voice._

"_Good," he intoned, "Because I need to ask you something…" he said, this time with determination as he struggled to a sitting position, aided by Harry. _

"_I'll do anything I can for you, Seamus, you know that…" Harry said with a small watery smile of his own._

_Seamus nodded, sparing the sobbing child a sympathetic glance before turning back to Harry. "Well, I'm going to get right to the point, Harry, I'm dying—" at this point the little girl let out a low mournful moan and buried her face in Seamus's chest, little arms encircling him. _

"_ Dorcas, you know it's true,there's no use crying over spilt milk, is there?" he patted the girl's honey colored hair and kissed the top of her head as she cried. His sad gaze met Harry's, and a look of understanding passed through them._

"_Take care of my sister Harry, when I'm gone, please, I'm begging you…" Seamus croaked, tears now streaming down his sooty ashen face. Harry nodded, felt salty tears prick his own eye and Dorcas lifted her head to regard them both. Her green-brown eyes were blood shot and red, and her freckled nose pink._

"_Dorcas… promise me that you'll live on longer than I? Promise me that? Do you? I love you Dor, always be good, always…" Seamus said, kissing each of her cheeks in turn._

_Dorcas, who was only five, nodded her head sadly and kissed his nose, murmuring "I promise Sea," over and over again, and Seamus drifted off into a deep sleep. He dreamt of long green meadows that stretched out forever, sunflowers as bright as his mum's hair, and it was such a wonderful dream, such a wonderful dream, in fact, that he didn't ever want to wake up from it. And so…he didn't…_

* * *

Harry woke from his dream in a cold sweat, it had been so long since he had dreamt of Seamus, and of the day he had first laid eyes upon Dorcas Finnegan. Unconsciously he felt around in bed, seeking out his girls. Only once he felt the top of both their heads did he breathe a sigh of relief and slumped back down in bed.

Ginny and Dorcas had become his sole reason for living after Voldemort took over Europe, most of their friends had been thrown into camps where they were mistreated and underfed, if at all. All was chaos.

Dorcas was now almost eleven years old; it had been six years since the battle at Hogwarts, six years since Seamus's death. During those six years they had been in hiding, most of their time spent in continuous running; never staying at one place at a time for more than a month.

During those years Harry had found a useful, alternate (and decidedly muggle) form of personal defense, and ignored by Ginny (favoring her wand rather than "muggle tools") Harry took up the subtle, but effective, habit of using blades in dueling rather than relying solely on magic. It took him the better half of those six years to perfect his aim (with knives) and his stances (with swords) and actually learn anything from the wizened old muggle who taught him; Especially after Mr. Hiragizawa died (of natural causes, oddly enough) two years previous.

As years passed, Dorcas turned eight and both Harry and Ginny had decided it was time to show her how to defend herself, should anything happen to them she would not find herself incapable of holding her own and surviving . Harry taught her what little he could of blades, and between both Ginny and himself they taught her dueling.

She took to everything quickly, fascinated as she was my knowledge and thirsty for more, absorbing everything like a sponge. Although, she didn't take kindly to swords, as she preferred having both her hands securely around the hilt of something(usually Shamshirs or knives) useful and ready to strike if necessary. She had a natural talent for it, her being as small as she was nimble. It took hours , months (and a couple of years) of hard training for her skills(and Harry's) to actually amount to something useful, but little Dorcas , as young as she was, saw and understood the necessity of it all.

Hexes and Cruses with Ginny seemed a walk in the park after the long hours of training with Harry,but the learning she tackled with most ferocity was her reading, writing and numbers. She found that she was quite adept at her adding, subtraction, multiplication and division if she did say so herself!

In six years the three had completely centered their whole life solely around each other, the protection of each other and themselves, running away from Voldemort and his minions and continuing a somewhat desperate and hopeless search for the remaining two horcruxes. One of which was _still_ Nagini.

So far they had had close calls, but had not been caught. Currently they were taking residence in an old abandoned chapel in France. They had been sharing the church building with the local vampire clan of Paris, and had been relatively undisturbed by them. Until that moment.

Dark haired, pale and beautiful Etienne swept into the room hurriedly with a grace reminiscent to that of a cat. His expressive violet eyes were wide and spoke of the deepest concern. He was the youngest son of the clan lord, rather young by vampire standards (only two hundred) and was considered somewhat of a romantic among his peers.

"You must hasten, leave this place at once, I can sense danger approaching, hence away!" he pleaded, face contorting in fear. Not for himself, but for them. The young vampire had become rather attached to his charge, Dorcas, and wished to see no harm befall her.

Harry nodded and sent the vampire a grateful look before he reached down and gently shook his family awake. "Dorcas, Ginny, they're here, we have to leave…" he whispered lowly.

Dorcas eyes immediately snapped open; she quickly grabbed hold of her belongings from under the bed, strapping her Shamshiers securely on to her waist. They were Arabian ones, well balanced and had long hilts. The somewhat thin yet sharp and curved blade provided for superb cutting power when slashing, and charmed to slash through absolutely anything (even stone), as were her throwing knives ;coated with deadly snake poison.

She then threw her thin arms around her vampire friend in gratitude, both for his brief friendship and the warning. Etienne responded in the like and watched with sad eyes as Dorcas scampered into Ginny's waiting arms.

The three companions felt the familiar tug at their navels and knew that soon they would be transported to a new unfamiliar destination, but it was with a strange feeling of foreboding that they sense that this would be their very last escapade.

* * *

"Sand," Dorcas muttered moodily, spitting said substance out of her mouth and looking around her, only to be met with the sight of more sand. Ominously large mountains and mounds of sand, actually, and sand covered guardians looking decidedly peeved about the heat, the location and the, well…sand.

Ginny's long waist length copper hair was down in a messy plait and she was wearing one of Harry's old Puddlemere Untited t-shirts, socks and white pajama bottoms. Harry, similarly attired, was pulling his muggle sneakers out of his backpack absentmindedly. His hair, no longer short and messy, was long (up to the base of his neck) and fell in untidy ringlets, his glasses placed somewhat askew on his nose.

Dorcas sighed, walked over to him and righted them gently, rolling her eyes in mock irritation as he gave her a sheepish grin and righted her own round thick rimmed spectacles. She didn't bother changing, and merely pulled out her own sneakers, watching Ginny pull out her own and some sturdy shorts for what Dorcas supposed would be a rather LONG walk.

"Harry, where are we?" she asked curiously, fishing her backpack for the maps. Harry's green eyes regarded her with a slight smile before he muttered, "In the middle of a desert, in erm…Egypt…" he replied, fishing out a compass from his shirt pocket.

Dorcas nodded and bit the inside of her mouth, watching somewhat amused as Ginny struggled with her shoelaces which were caught in a rather complicated knot, courtesy of a one Harry J. Potter. Cordially giving up, Ginny just forced her foot inside the shoe and stomped hard on the ground, wriggling it for good measure.

"All set," she declared with a triumphant grin.

Dorcas gave her a smile and raised her arms up to her; Ginny gathered her up in her arms and kissed her on the forehead lightly, nuzzling their noses together in an "Eskimo kiss". Harry, compass and maps at hand, watched them with a warm smile on his lips, wiping sweat from his brow.

Dorcas' hair, once a light honey color, had darkened into a more rich amber color , and the freckles on her face had lessened somewhat, covering only her nose and cheeks. She had Seamus's impish smile and some of Harry's mannerisms as well as Ginny's.

Dorcas' biggest virtue was her ability to love; she could love so easily and so deeply, but to betray her or hurt those she loved was invoking the wrath of hell. It was because she was so sensitive that Harry protected her so zealously and also because she was, after all, but a child.

She shot him a loving smile and he ruffled her hair affectionately, settling a map in front of them and analyzing it critically. Just as he was contemplating their next course of action Ginny spoke.

"East, we should go east…" she said hollowly, and he gave her a strange look, and stared down at the map. There was nothing east of them for miles, but he nodded anyways, not questioning her reason. Ginny often had those _"feelings"_ and hadn't led them astray thus far.

So they picked up their backpacks, slung them over their shoulders methodically and started walking east. For days on end they walked east. On the eve of the fifth night they set camp. Ginny was making the fire, and Harry was setting up the tent while Dorcas was fishing in their bags for that night's meal. Their stashes were running low, but it would last them a few more weeks.

Ginny unshrunk the food and pots and set to work on making dinner, and little Dorcas sat next to her, awaiting any commands. Silently setting the sleeping bags inside the spacey tent, Harry heard a **CRACK**. He stiffened, whipping out his wand and making his way towards the girls.

He cast a shield on them and looked around wildly; a few feet away from them a black robed figure pointed its wand menacingly at them. Then there was another **CRACK**.

**CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK**.

They were surrounded by the robes figures, some of the faces familiar while others were not. Draco Malfoy was present, his face a bit green, Blaise Zabini, Marcus Flint, Zacharias Smith, both generations of Crabbes and Goyles, Dolohov, and Snape.

"Snape," Harry hissed, dagger at one hand and wand in the other. Dorcas was fingering her throwing knives with relish, while Ginny glared, absently eyeing something behind the horde of death eaters. A large slab of rock: twice the size of Hagrid long and just as thick.

"Stupefy!" Harry roared, taking down Dolohov. Everything erupted into a wave of movement at that point. Harry and Ginny expertly dodging curses and hexes and Dorcas' dexterous blades were being caught deftly by the deatheaters…with their throats.

Six were down, either dead or unconscious. Ginny levitated the large slab of rock that she'd been eyeing earlier, above three death eater's heads and let it fall with a sickening _crunch_. Concentrated as she was with the rock, she didn't notice the dark curse being fired her way and had no time to dodge it as it collapsed painfully with her side.

Blood erupted from the wound almost immediately and she dropped to her knees, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Dorcas let out a growl, retrieving her blades from her newest victim (Zacharias Smith); she hurled them at the remaining death heater's back, slicing cleanly through his neck just as Harry sent him a rather nasty curse.

All in all, it would suffice to say that Severus Snape had a rather **bloody **demise Without batting an eyelash Dorcas ran to Ginny's side ignoring that she had just killed her first man or that it was the very first time she had sliced her wicked blades into something other than wooden targets. All that mattered to her was Ginny, who lay on the floor bleeding.

"Enneverate," Harry murmured, taking out various potions and salves, but it was no use. The curse was slowly freezing Ginny inside out; Harry had seen the likes of it before in the few and far between battles that he had partaken in. Turning everything blood, organs, cells, into ice. Its victim became a true human Popsicle. It was a curse of the darkest nature and irreversible, anything they tried from this point on would only help speed the curse's progress.

Dorcas and Harry could only watch helplessly as Ginny took her last dying breath, uttering her dying words to them. She did not wish to be mourned, but rather to be remembered as a smiling face, wanted them not to be miserable on her account or dwell on the past. Her last request was for them to move on, survive, and ultimately find pace and love. Specifically to Harry she requested that he allow someone else, when the time came, to love him as she had.

Tears streaming down their faces, they nodded their agreement and watched in horror as part of their world closed her eyes and left them forever.

They reached a small town, the deserted remains of the ancient wizarding culture of Egypt, and settled for the nigh and gave Ginny a small and modest burial. Muttering morose and half-hearted words of comfort to each other they settled their sleeping bags in the throne room of an ancient and forgotten temple of Isis, goddess of magic.

Colorful hieroglyphs of a beautiful bronze skinned woman holding a sistrum(a musical instrument formed as a sticklike wooden or metal object, with a frame and small metal disks that rattled when the instrument was shaken by hand. The head of Hathor was depicted on the handle) and a tiet(variation of the ankh, which it resembles except that its crossing arms curve downward).

The same woman sat on the throne then, perfectly chiseled and carved out of the purest stone. Her long dark hair fell in graceful waves onto her back, holding the sistrum in her left hand with her right delicately folded under the left.

Briefly, and somewhat foolishly (as Dorcas later admitted to herself), she knelt at the statue's feet in silent prayer. _'oh goddess, We are always fighting this hopeless fight against evil, and I am afraid that we will loose, juts as we now lost our Ginny…I don't think I could take loosing Harr_y' she confessed, more to herself than the statue. _'But I know that we are right in fighting for the good, and maybe we will win, but I don't think so. Will you help us?' _she prayed, unconsciously sliding the cool metal of a knife into her palm and slashing delicately across it. She placed the small droplets of blood at the feet of the goddess and turned away, oblivious to the stone figure's glowing eyes or to the now alight chamber and laid herself to rest, spooning herself into Harry's sleepy embrace.

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**stargirl29:** thank you **so** much for reviewing, before you did I briefly considered taking down the story, because I thought no one would like it at all, but then you did review and it gave me the impulse to continue it. So thank you! My only regret is that I could not make this first chapter any longer that it now is, but I do promise that I will make them longer as the story continues to progress!

To any one else reading I plead that you tell me your thoughts (good or bad) about my story by clinking that nice, and glorious little button and review!

_Hoping you liked my first chapter,_

_Camelopardalis_


	3. Alone

Title: The Beautiful Lie

Rating: T

Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is an AU fic.

Categories: General

Sub Cat: Romance

Summary: Amidst the chaos of war Harry makes a promise to a dying man, and receives the most difficult job yet: raising a child. This is the story of how Harry and little Dorcas Finnegan, with the aid of divine powers, fight the evils of Voldemort. Warnings: Contains Slash, Time Travel, HBP spoilers, and is an AU fic.

_Ships: HP/GW, eventual HP/SB, LE/JP, DM/RL, AL/FL_

A/N: again: I am STILL in a _very_ desperate need of BETA, so if any1's interested _**plz, plz, plz** email_ me!

quibird: thanks so much for reviewing my last chapter, am so sorry that the chapter was so late, but I had a huge block and tons of school work. Gomen!

littleflower2004: Meep! Thanks for all the help and words of encouragement, this chapter goes out to you!)

**-- Chapter Two: Alone --**

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**Sometime After the fall of Hogwarts, Ireland. **

_A small child, deeply immersed in her own grief, oblivious to the world around her, crouched before a grey tombstone. The daylight around her was waning, she didn't know how long she had sat there, but she didn't care. _

'_Seamus Finnegan_

_Loving Brother and Friend' _

"_Just four words," she whispered to no one in particular, "it hardly seems enough to describe what he was, what he is…"_

"_It isn't…" a voice beside her answered solemnly. He was a tall youth of only seventeen, his unkempt dark hair fell around his face like a nest and his emerald green eyes full of sadness. He was kind to her, always, and she appreciated that, but that was not why she loved him. She loved him because of the inner strength he possessed, because of how even after all that had happened to him he still had hope, and above all…he understood. He understood war, he understood loss, sorrow, and he understood Dorcas. These he understood with utmost perfection. _

_Her large glass frames were fogged up, and her nose was red from crying. "Harry…do you think I'll every see Sea again?" she asked. Harry met her eyes and saw for the first time what she truly was_: a scared child_. Not a war scarred miserable soul that had seen too much of death and loss, not a hungry orphan, not a waif like shell of a human being, just a small scared child trying to make it by alive._

_He saw himself reflected in the eyes of this child, this miserable creature consumed by sorrow. It stirred something within his chest; it seemed to suffocate him, unlocking something that he had been trying to forget ever since the war had started. _

_It unlocked within him memories of laughing faces, of jokes told long ago by people who no longer stood by him, voices full of mirth, and eyes shining with love and joy. Joy. It seemed so unreal, so long ago. A fairytale before the ugly fate that had befallen them all. Dorcas…she hadn't known joy, or if she had he didn't think she could remember it. She was so young yet. _

_At that moment, he looked upon her with resolve and love in his eyes. Love for that which had given him back his fairytale, his joy .It was bittersweet and tinged with sorrow, but it was something he had forgotten because of these dark times. Dorcas was his fairytale in a way, he supposed. And in that moment he vowed to give her a fairytale of her own, perhaps with his love she would be able to know joy. The joy of family, the joy of having a friend, the joy of laughter…_

_As his green eyes met hers he smiled and said "I think you will…" _

_They both stared resolutely ahead, towards the declining sun on the horizon, hands firmly clasped together._

* * *

Harry woke to the sounds of furious whispers, a soft jangling sound resembling a breeze blowing through the papyrus reeds. They spoke in voices so musical and soft that they seemed unreal, their tongues and lips curving to produce a strange foreign language that he couldn't recognize.

Against his better judgment and instincts, Harry didn't draw his wand. Instead he sat up slowly and felt around for his glasses, placing them on his face and regarding the three figures before him with awe and apprehension. One was a woman, seated on the marble throne she wore the finest cotton dress, with an ancient cut; something highly reminiscent of the hieroglyphs depicted on the walls. Her tiled dark eyes darted furiously at the man in front of her with a fierce irritation, her thick sea of ebony curls fell in neat waves on her back, and her coppery skin glistened in the soft morning rays of light.

She emanated an aura of beauty and power. Her companion emanated the same such aura of power, and was no less beautiful than she. He was a beautiful man, in the same sense that you would deem a woman so. He wore a flowing black cloak, loose-fit black pants and a black shirt. Whatever of his pale flesh that wasn't covered by the somber clothes he wore was covered in wraps, like that of a mummy. His hair, too, was black, but rather than curly it was sleek and fell to his shoulders; his red lips were pulled into a snarl, exposing elongated white fangs. Hanging from a black chord around his throat was a thick silver ankh which rested upon his breast.

"Harry Potter," greeted the woman in her low melodic voice as they turned to regard him with grave calculating eyes. He nodded in return, hand flexing around his wand.

"We have sought you for many moons before this day and have come, both in response to your prayer, and to offer you aid in your quest," said the beautiful woman.

'_My quest?' _Harry scoffed, as if it could even be called that any longer. "What prayer?" He asked instead, staring at them hard, but before she had the chance to respond there was a startled squeak from somewhere behind them as Dorcas leapt to her feet and regarded the beautiful woman with wide watery eyes.

"You came!" she cried out, launching herself onto the woman's waiting arms in a teary embrace. They broke apart and the woman gave Dorcas a light kiss on her forehead, as she did so Dorcas immediately started to glow. Startled, Harry growled low in his throat. He looked around at his surroundings, seeking out any element that would help him defeat these strange beings, his mind and his senses were fogged with confusion. Harry didn't much like being confused, that which he did not understand in these desperate times he perceived as a threat. The sight that met his eyes was the same sight that had met him the night before: the yellowing stone wall with its bright inscriptions; a column, felled many nights before they had arrived lay miserable and broken on the floor; an empty ivory throne where once sat a beautiful carving. The carving!

* * *

**So let us pause time for a second and analyze our distraught hero's situation: two supernatural beings to which he has zero prior knowledge of suddenly appare out of nowhere, who are now currently in possession of his heart, being suddenly cornered by them, our hero is reduced to his most primal animal instinct. A defensive posture, in which no thought other than terminating that which is threatening his baby, is processed. Now we will un-pause time and return to the story.**

**

* * *

**

"What are you doing to her?" he snarled. He had just lost Ginny to bloody Snape, and he wasn't about to loose Dorcas to two complete strangers.

"Healing, she partook in a very trying battle last night did she not?" The woman replied, not looking at him, but rather smoothing back the child's dirty unkempt hair. Dorcas gave her an adoring smile, the glow finally dissipating, and sauntered off to Harry's side. She took his hand in both of her smaller ones and gave it a light tug.

"I asked her to help us fight the badies, I didn't think it would actually work, I preformed a blood summoning…" she explained, biting her lip, "but I'm glad it did," she added softly.

Harry sighed and nodded wryly, he _should_ be accustomed to odd situations and awkward moments, seeing as his life was a constant bizarre situation, but he just couldn't see past this one. Who were these people?

"I am Isis, daughter of Nut and Geb, ancient goddess of magic," she said, settling back in the marble throne, hand out stretched towards the man. He took her hand and settled by her feet, his eyes shining with an emotion Harry couldn't decipher.

"I am Osiris, keeper of souls, Master of the keys to the Du'at whence dwell the souls of the departed," he drawled smoothly.

Harry blinked, anger and confusion escalating. "What's going on here?"

Osiris sighed, resignation painted across his face. "Once, many moons ago, magic and death became as one," he paused and gave Isis a warm smile, reminiscing, "The product of this union was Senh, our son, he was a very mischievous child, but as he grew his thirst for chaos and mischief deepened. One of his more particularly elaborate pranks , his objective was to infuriate a egocentric king , but in his carelessness , he cost the life of a human person. For this reason Isis and I were forced to punish him, he was condemned to remain as child for the rest of his immortal existence. He was enraged, so he fled from our realm into the mortal realm, and took with him the book of the dead to enrage me in turn for punishing him. He wandered for many days, but as he was but a child he soon forgot why he was enraged to begin with, what the book was for or that he was so far from home." He stopped then and regarded Harry with sad eyes.

"In 1968, Senh decided that it would be hilarious to reward a selfish madman with a gift. Senh gave the man Tom Riddle the book of the dead. Of course he did not know how to read it, but given time Riddle began to decipher the lost language, extract the secrets from the book. Secrets better left where they belonged, "Osiris paused seeming somewhat lost, and added softly "with the dead." Isis's hand lightly squeezed his shoulder in support.

"The death rate after the aforementioned point in history escalated alarmingly, Souls not yet due for many more moons filled the Hall of two truths. Ma'at was at loss of what to do. The Duat was not yet ready for the influx of souls, leaving them to linger on earth until their time came. Suddenly everything stopped and life went back to normal. Closely we watched you, Harry Potter, the man-child with the power to defeat the evil of Voldemort. Then after your 14th winter, Ma'at was again receiving souls before their time. The second influx was far worse than the first. We knew then that Voldemort had to be prevented from happening," Isis explained slowly, allowing the words to sink in.

"Prevented? But how? I haven't any time left. It's only matter of days before I am found by them again and perhaps not even that!" Harry protested in defeat. Dorcas gave him a reproving glare, curling her fingers around Isis' own.

Isis smiled gracefully at him, sympathy written in her eyes "Time. We will give you this. In return you will give us Life, and return our wayward son to us," She smiled again and gestured behind him: an opening that led to a flight of stairs, descending downwards, into the temple. It certainly had not been there before. Harry blinked owlishly and turned back to Isis.

"We will go through the hall of two truths, onto the corridor of time, "she said, placing Dorcas easily on her hip and gesturing Harry towards the stairs delicately. Allowing Isis to guide him Harry descended the stairs, Osiris bringing up the rear.

* * *

They stepped into a large room, where a large balance made out of pure white gold stood in the very center of the room. A fair dark-haired woman stood next to it, raven hair drawn back into numerous black braids, the occasional large ostrich feather woven into it. Above, on the balance sat a brown haired man, hair cut short and his long face set into a look of grim determination. With the grace of a cat he descended onto the floor to stand next to the woman. They nodded at them in passing, and then walked towards them.

"In order to produce a swift victory there must be a balance of power between you and your foe, to honor your quest I will give you something you will find useful in your quest, however, when all is done you must return her to me; I can part with it for a while. It is Ammut; soul eater." She said, holding out an intricately carved wooden chest of dark oak. It was held together by a slim black lock, seemingly made out of polished stone. On the thick lid of the wooden chest a strange animal was depicted with the head of a crocodile, the forequarters of a lion, and the hindquarters of a hippopotamus.

"I wish you luck Harry Potter and Dorcas Finnegan, for the lives of many rest upon you." She then gave Harry a small white key, carved out of pure white crystal and intricate in design. He nodded his thanks at her and turned to the man.

In his hands rested a thick volume. It was the Book of Thoth by which a man might enchant both heaven and earth, and know the language of the birds and beasts. He placed the book gingerly in Dorcas's little hands, and cupped her face with his hands.

"Child, many a hardships face you, in this trial you must be strong; unwavering in the face of evil. I grant you both the blessing of Thoth," he proclaimed regally, violet eyes glowing brightly. The woman behind him gasped, covering her open mouth with her hands and stared at the two in surprise.

Abruptly images filled Dorcas's eyes, images of strange birds and beasts, flashed continuously in her mind eye. Animals of every color, size, form and fashion; all whispering to her; embracing her with their softly spoken words and strange tongues. Their images continued to run through her mind, while unbeknownst to her, Harry stood rooted to the spot next to her, undergoing a similar process.

Spotted boars, striped horses, blue birds with green eyes, dogs with strange forked tails, bright pink birds with an addictively sweet and maddening melodies, snarling wolves in mid hunt, the fearful eyes of a young colt, a sickly looking bird enveloped by thick red flames, only to rise from its ashes mere seconds afterwards, and finally sad amber eyes staring back at her…

She took a deep breath, and looked around; she was lying on the floor, blinking up at Harry's concerned green eyes. "Did you see them?" she whispered fearfully, afraid that it had all been a dream. Harry shook his head gingerly, not quite understanding what had happened then, exactly.

"What happened?" he asked gruffly, hands trembling.

"You are now able to walk among your brothers and sisters," Isis said cryptically.

They were now in a wide corridor with Isis, and Osiris. Torches burned bright to reveal a yellow corridor, walls covered in different archways, some of which burned a faint blue. The Hall of two truths lay behind them. The stone doors were open and Harry could see Thoth and the woman, Ma'at, looking at them as they stood.

It seemed to him at that moment that their eyes were not really staring at them, but rather past them. He suppressed a shiver, anxious of what would come next but insatiably curious of how it would come.

"The first thing you must understand is that time portals can only be accessed by one of us, guiding one mortal at a time, after which its takes a thousand years to regenerate themselves; portals can only go backward, never forward in time. Unfortunately the closest portals we have to the time of the influx available are 1971 and 1977," Osiris paused, leaving the confused humans to draw their own conclusions as they followed silently behind them.

A long silence stretches between them as they passed through the long hall, Dorcas idly nibbled her bottom lip in deep concentration, every one in a while giving Harry a soft calculating look. Harry, hands now buried in his pockets, pinched the bridge of his nose in anxious anticipation, his stomach pooled around his ankles.

"It means one of us will have to wait, six years for the other…" Dorcas said finally, slowly. Harry nodded, but said nothing, staring resolutely ahead. Dorcas paused in mid step, decision made. She would wait; there was no way in hell Harry would be able to take six years on his own.

"I'll do it," she said softly, startling everyone. Three pairs of eyes regarded her, one with surprise, one with acceptance and the other with understanding. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dorcas raised a hand to stop him.

"No Harry, this is how it's gotta be, just accept it for once, will ya?" she smiled, but her tone left no room for arguments. For once Harry didn't argue. He nodded his head ashamedly, following her logic perfectly.

It was then that Isis stepped forward and placed a hand on Dorcas's shoulder, eyes soft she whispered "For your courage I grant you the gift of sight."As the words were spoken a pulsating sphere of white light burst inside her head. Suddenly, it felt like the walls were breathing, like she was suffocating, but her lungs were filled with air, like she couldn't see, but her eyes picked up single detail, like she felt nothing and everything all at once. Then she was filled by a sudden awareness. As she opened her eyes she realized there was something different about the people before her.

Glowing light, of different colors surrounded them. Isis was enveloped in a pure white which glowed, while Osiris's was pitch black, but despite the stark contrast in color it was hard to differentiate where the glow emanating from Osiris ended, and where Isis's began. _'The bond of a life mate' a_ small voice whispered in her ear, startling her, but somehow the bond seemed strained, as if dying. Harry emanated a dark green, tinged with grey, which was sorrow. She didn't quite know how she came to the conclusion that she could read auras, beyond the fact that she just _knew_.

She sighed, nodding her head and turning to Harry, who regarded her with a broken expression, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She rewarded him with a small smile , "I won't forget you if that's what you're thinking, I couldn't ever do that; I think even if I tried…I'll never forget you brother, I'll think of you always…" she promised, eyes wet.

A tear slid down his face, "I regret I'll never watch you grow…I will miss the six most important years of your life… next time we meet, you'll be all grown up," he replied sadly.

"You won't miss them! I promise I'll find a way for you to see them Har, I swear it." she promised resolutely, extending her hand to his delicately, as if he would break.

"Be wary of Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape, Snape was who killed Dumbledore and Pettigrew betrayed my parents, be selective of those you trust, tell no one the truth unless you are certain, and above all…be careful , alright pet?" He said, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly.

Dorcas leant into him, tears running freely down her cheek. When she pulled away her cheeks were flushed and round bottle-frame spectacles fogged up. He pecked her cheek and stepped away from her, walking towards Isis. Dorcas watched, determination setting firmly in her eyes as Isis and Harry conversed quietly. She _would_ make Harry proud.

"I will guide you through the portal, and provide for you until your brother is able," Isis explained, taking her small hand in her own. It felt soft against Dorcas's own, and offered some comfort, so she stared resolutely ahead, forcing Harry's broken expression into a dark corner in the back of her mind. She had to find a way. She just _had _to.

Her last conscious thought before stepping through the portal, was her obligation to keep her promise before she was thrust through. Immediately everything began to change, she felt as though she was being reduced, compressed, lungs gasping for air and eyes wide open, unable to close. It was sort of like watching a movie through fast forward, only it was a billion times faster and everything went backwards. It was hard to keep track of anything specific at a time, so basically it was all a garbled picture of countless images flashing before her eyes constantly.

She felt her knees go lax; her head was spinning so fast she could hardly see the images; bile was rising in her throat; She dropped to her knees, fingers limp in Isis's hand; her eyes clouded over; her nose started to bleed, and her ears popped; The feeling of being compressed increased; she collapsed in a flash of blue light..

* * *

A damp cloth was being gently pressed to her forehead, and the soft bed beneath her was warm. Registering the previous thought in her mind, she shot up like a dart, looking around wildly.

"Where am I!" She screeched shrilly, frantic gaze landing on a dark haired woman, with curly black hair and coppery skin. Isis. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Calm down Dorcas, It is just me, **Aunt Iris**…" she soothed, in a soft Irish accent that was so different from her usual voice, just as her appearance was very much less striking than her true form.

"Aunt Iris, "she smiled, nodding in acceptance. She would like having an aunt, she decided, watching as an old silver haired man, with a long beard approached them. He was wearing deep purple robes, with silver stitching and on his hand he wore a silver ring with a sparkling stone in its centre. His name was Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry Potter's mentor.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Miss Meadowes , your aunt has already explained your situation to me and I have agreed to enlist you in my school alongside the other first year students, despite your late arrival. If you are feeling better I will be willing to explain in my office?" he inquired, blue eyes twinkling.

Dorcas stole a glace to _Aunt Iris's_ smiling face and nodded, accepting the sheaf of chocolate the prim looking nurse offered her on their way out. Breathing a long sigh she settled into a slow pace besides her _Aunt Iris_.

The walls of the castle seemed to pulse, as one, as if alive. _Like a beating heart, _she observed quietly as she passed by group of mischievous looking boys. Their ties were scarlet and gold and their hair a different array of colors. The smallest one, a pale boy with doe like amber eyes that had his hair charmed purple, was the only one of the three that had the grace to look guilty as an elder woman with her hair in tight bun scolded them viciously. The two other boys, hair charmed pink and blue, respectively and in that order, tried to force down catlike grins as the woman literally snarled at them.

"At the rate you three are going, Gryffindor will have negative points!" She screeched finally, exasperated. They passed the boys quietly, and Dorcas stared at them with awestruck wide eyes.

"Moon child…" she whispered, astonished.

* * *

Harry watched the blue light wither and die; the archway was left desolate and broken. The faint golden glow that surrounded it now was weak, and miserable, nothing compared to its previous glory.

A warm hand was placed on his shoulder, Osiris. His clear silver eyes bore into Harry's , sending unwelcome shivers down his spine. He smelled like rain, and cinnamon, and power. He was also undeniably attractive, and Harry knew this, mostly because of how his closeness was affecting his already frayed nerves. He let out a small gasp, and turned away, closing his eyes in hopes of gathering himself.

He could feel Osiris's hot breath on his neck as his deep musical voice murmured something close to his ear "It won't be enough to vanquish him, this power you now possess, Senh has given him the book of the dead, and within it are the secrets of life and death, the only way to rise above him is to be immune to death…" he murmured.

Harry, now growing both irritated and mortified, glared at him "And just how do you propose I do that?" he snapped, turning to face him. Osiris offered him a cryptic smile and held out his slim pale hand towards Harry, half was wrapped in thin strips of cloth, but most of his slim fingers were bare, revealing smooth pale skin.

Frustrated and tired, Harry took his hand, welcoming the feeling of his smooth skin grazing Osiris's own. "I will turn you into one of my own children, my liber, my childe…" he said, free arm snaking around Harry's waist, and pulling him close.

Harry gasped; the smell was intoxicating, filling his lungs, fogging his vision. "And that's what exactly?" he managed to drawl sarcastically, still mortally aware of his own bitterness, his own resent.

"A Vampyr Harry, in doing so…you will be reborn, reformed, with so much power you've never even dreamed of, all you have to do is trust me, trust me and all will be well…" he whispered, lips pressed against his neck, tongue dancing heatedly above the smooth white skin of his neck.

He let out low moan; all he could do was close his eyes and hope, hope that the musical words spoken by the beautiful being whose arms were around him were true. And oh how he _wanted_ to believe in him…

"I trust you…" Harry whispered back, his emerald green orbs locking with Osiris's silver spheres. They seemed to glow with a power of their own, like silver liquid fire.

He felt the sharp incisors sink into his skin, drawing out his life blood, stealing him of his consciousness. His eyes fluttered shut then, and he felt as though he were being transported elsewhere, as though he were outside of his own body, but somehow deep within it. Formless, but could feel the very core of his existence as if it were tangible, soft to the touch.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he could feel himself standing, but all he could see was an endless dark. A fathomless, never-ending pitch black abyss. The was a single white light surrounding his form that seemed to come from above, and somewhere in the dark that he could not see…were voices.

His ears strained to hear them, but they spoke too softly, he could not perceive their words; they molded with each other in perfect synchrony. Dropping to his knees he tried to crawl towards them, but they were everywhere, all around him, steadily growing louder.

Louder.

Louder.

LOUDER.

**LOUDER.**

Louder…

Louder until he could stand it no more.

Would they not leave him alone?

Would they not cease?

_Should we cease?_

_Are you not alone already?_

_Have those around you not perished?_

_You are alone._

_Alone._

_Alone._

_Alone._

_**Alone.**_

The soft monotone mantra continued to repeat that single word, without fail, never-ending, deafening him, overwhelming him. His hands went to his face, his ears, clawing, drawing blood, in desperate, frantic movements.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! GO AWAY!" he sobbed, arms now going around him. The voices disappeared, and in their stead crouched Osiris. His pale skin gave out a radiance of its own; he seemed illuminated.

His left wrist was slashed, dripping crimson that disappeared into the darkness soon after it fell; he pressed it to Harry's quivering lips and said:

"**Drink."**

* * *

**a/n: Well, that was it basically, really hope you liked it! And plz,plz,plz review, am starting to feel neglected!gives you puppy dog eyes Pleeeeeaaaaaassseeee? **


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